


Libero me - I free myself

by HolyBlackSpear



Series: The History of a Dandelion [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Extended Families, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 22:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyBlackSpear/pseuds/HolyBlackSpear
Summary: After having lived for some time in Alexius' house as his apprentice, Hel'shrael has a day alone with his son Felix. They both decide to ditch their respective studies to spend an alternative afternoon together, the results of which are far from their imagination.__Non!Inquisitor LavellanOne-shots part of a series dedicated to the character. Can be read as stand alone.





	Libero me - I free myself

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers, here I am with the second part of this series. I enjoyed writing about these two very much, especially because there aren't many fics around with Felix as one of the main characters and because the man is a very important part of Hel's life and healing path. He wouldn't be what he is today without his mentor's son.
> 
> The tags state it, but there are one or two vague mentions to past rape. If that triggers you, I suggest you do not continue further.  
> Enjoy C:

Alexius and Livia were both away on behalf of the Magisterium. Important matters, they had said the night before leaving, with the vexed expression of who'd gladly avoid a similar trip but is obligated to making it given the social position they occupy. Dorian had accompanied them, since he too was participating in the policy forums, hoarding favours and slanders from his audience.   
He and Felix had listened to the rehearsal of his speech hundreds of times by now, at the point they could recite it even while they were sleeping. They even had fun, though a little evilly, expressing dissension in quite the … colourful way. It was an idea of the black-haired young man: to prepare the Pavus' scion to the insults the crowd would address him.   
It was without saying that he was surprised and hurt the first time, before he steeled his determination and went on with more verve than before, answering the provocative questions they would pose to pressure him.   
It had been strange, for Hel, to interpose scathing remarks to relaxed laughs and convivial moments. One of those evenings Felix had sneaked in the kitchens to steal some cookies and they had gone on the roof to eat them all together, very careful not to be caught by the parents. Luckily, Gereon seemed busier kissing his wife tenderly on the floor below, and they were more than happy to outflanks them while chuckling, foolish as teenagers in their puerile fun.   
It looked like he was back in the Clan. Not exactly, actually, there were indubitable differences, but the core substance was that: practising magic during the day, learning new things and researching with his mentor, and moments like that one in which he distracted himself with his peers, with his friends, challenging an authority that didn't scare them in their impulsive youth.   
Sometimes, when he woke up in the morning, he found himself surprised by not being terrified anymore or gripped by nightmares, tranquil instead, safe as only his family had made him feel. There wasn't the memory, constant and painful, of the violence he had to endure. There was a warm bad to envelop him, the duvet Livia had brought him the night before raised to his chin and occasionally the scratchy caress of Felix' beard against his shoulder.   
Because yes, it had happened several times that the young man went to sleep with him. Less, in the past, for a reason they perhaps had both forgotten, to keep him distant from the nightmares and remind him he was there to protect him. Now it was possibly more a habit, more the desire to be close, the pleasantness of falling asleep with the sound of another breath next to yours.   
He couldn't tell. He only knew that that domesticity, that familiar warmth that fluttered in the house, made him happy. Delighted as he wasn't in years. 

«What would you say about going for a walk together, Hel? I don't really want to study, today.»   
It was Felix who spoke first, catching him by surprise after the long silence that had submerged them since they both had started to read their things. He had an important tome about the Fade in his hands, while the man had an Orlesian history book in front of him, locked on the same page since hours. He imagined it wasn't too engaging.   
With a rough rustling of ancient pages he closed his own book, after putting a bookmark in it. It was a long and thin piece of paper on which Livia had painted a little groove in watercolours. It reminded him of the Free Marches, his land … and for that he loved it.   
«Why not? I also need a break. However…» - he stopped, suddenly a bit troubled. If they went to the city he would have to hide, in order to avoid undesired attention and to put Felix in an inconvenient position. Formally he was a slave of Alexius' family, not the apprentice of Gereon.   
The lad, as the only answer, shook his head with a little, relaxed smile, while he stood up and stretched a bit.   
«Don't worry, we won't go to the city. I have another place in mind if you'll accompany me, and we'll surely won't meet anyone there.»   
The elf looked immediately convinced, the mind that rushed to cling to the hope that he was talking about a forest or something similar. He hadn't seen many since he had arrived in that country, probably because he was too busy trying not to get killed or to be made Tranquil.   
He followed his companion outside when he motioned to be escorted, dark glance lost for a moment over the horizon, as if he was pondering about the weather. There were some grey clouds in the distance, but they didn't look eager to get close and the air was still hot and humid as always.   
«Can you ride, Hel?»   
The question was unexpected, just as the tiny playful smile he had on the face. They had a few mounts, in the stable behind the building, but he had never approached them. However…   
«Yes, quite, though it's been years since I did that. The hallas in the clan would help us with the aravels, but we barely mounted them.»   
The black haired nodded in response, his gaze comprehensive, probably because he was hearing something he had already read about in the past. Then he started walking while muttering by himself, just like when he was sitting at his desk, trying to solve the difficult mathematical calculations that he was assigned to do by the university. It was fun to see him so lost in thought, so focused and impossible to interrupt.   
Following him brought him, as he had thought, to the stable, where a dappled steed was munching his hay lazily. He imagined the other animals had been used by their housemates, since the remaining boxes where empty. As he was his custom to do, the young Alexius started explaining his intentions while he got down to work, saddling and putting the harness on the horse. For him, who was used to mounting the hallas freely when they gave him permission, the whole ceremonious vestment was very confusing.   
«If we ride for about ten minutes to the east we'll reach the place I have in mind. It's safe, I swear, and sufficiently isolated so that you won't be bothered by anyone, though not far enough from civilization to run into bandits or … qunari.»   
That last word made the skin crawl on the back of his head, while he himself shivered visibly, growing rigid on his place. It took him a great deal of good will not let the memories drown him, making him crumple to the ground to cry ‘till the next day.   
He preferred, instead, to cling to his other words, answering to an evidently preoccupied Felix, alarmed by his silent reaction, while raising a hand to touch the animal's neck, soft fur and tense muscles under the skin.   
«Not a problem for me. But we have only one horse and …» - he interrupted himself, because right as he was formulating that phrase his companion jumped on the saddle, glancing at him from above with amusement and confidence. The hand that was stretched towards him was the juvenile promise of a joyride and yet the security of a grip that wouldn't have let him fall. He fell silent, puzzled for a moment, not knowing what to do in response to a gesture so eloquent and unusual to him.   
«…It's safe, I promise. You won't fall, and I will take the reins if you don't trust yourself.» - the human tried to reassure him, a corner of his mouth raised with an encouraging nuance. He was not a liar, nor a stranger. Becoming aware of the wariness that was implanted under his skin after all the evil he had gone through filled him with sadness, and a lot of anger. He didn't want to hesitate with his friends. Not with Felix.   
So Hel nodded, though uncertain about how to reach him. His companion explained to him he had to heave up while putting a foot in the bracket, while he backed away on the saddle to give him room for manoeuvre. For some reason, the elf wasn't surprised when he looked down and saw there were two pairs of brackets instead of the regular one. If it was because he had already planned it all of because he was used to riding with someone, it wasn't for him to know.   
He followed, though clumsily, his instructions, blushing when the older one chuckled amusedly when he saw him clinging almost desperately to the beast's neck to avoid slipping to the ground through the climb.   
He calmed only when the guy's hands found their place on his hips, straightening him up and encircling him in a somewhat protective gesture, while he stretched to take the reins.   
Like that, completely pressed against the young man, with his arms around the body and his chin almost resting against the shoulder, it was natural to feel his own ears bending downwards for the embarrassment, though an unconscious part of him was surprised to realise that no muscle was frozen in panic for that sudden closeness. If he had kept him that close even just a couple of months before he would have reduced the man to a smoking pile of flesh without even registering it, without even wanting to.   
There was a moment of awkward silence in which the elf heard his own heart quickening a bit too much in his chest. He felt Felix holding his breath behind him and he asked himself if perhaps he hadn't understood, if he hadn't discovered that he didn't like being so close to him. Instead, while his own cerebral gears were spinning at full speed, threatening to overheat, the young man behind him burst out laughing, chest flinching against his back.   
He answered his doubts before he could even ask. And he found himself laughing as well, surprised by their foolish negligence.   
«We didn't open the box.» 

A few minutes later they were riding towards a destination unknown to him. The elf was having a lot of fun since Felix had given him the reins letting him lead their steed while he guided him on the path to take. He liked the pressure of his hands of his hips, relaxed as only the ones of a person who trusted the other could be. It made him feel safe and at the same time his equal, not submitted to his will. It was a feeling hard to describe and probably a bit silly but after years spent belonging to someone, he couldn't be anything but joyful for his much-yearned freedom.   
The sun burned placid above them, hot for the summer that would soon arrive. What surprised him the most was how the street they were taking was actually free from travellers. It was to keep in mind that it was more like a trail than a real road, but …   
He turned when he was asked to, his heart tightening in the chest when, passed a bottleneck between two enormous boulders, the profile of a little groove found its way against the horizon. The young man behind his back seemed to notice his reaction since he held him a little tighter protruding his head over his shoulder.   
«See? I told you we wouldn't be bothered by anyone!»   
In his voice whipped by the wind he heard a hint of triumph, of sweet satisfaction due to seeing his marked lips smiling uncontrollably with the corner of his eye. He had probably foreseen it, did it on purpose. But if it was for his own happiness, Hel had nothing against a few machinations.   
They arrived in a handful of minutes, dismounting and tying the creature to a solid trunk, where he could graze the abundant grass. It was natural to ask the young man if he didn't fear about people stealing it, but Felix shrugged relaxed, almost nonchalant.   
«It's a common race of horse and this place is safe. No one will come and take him from me.» - he completed the thought with an affectionate pat on the animal's neck which, as the only response, raised its snout to huff in his face. They both laughed, though the black haired with disgusts, while he cleaned his mouth and started to get ahead through the bush, seeing how he was literally squirming to move forward.   
The place surrounding them enchanting, surreal in its beauty, in the gentle silence that he had missed so much. There was the lazy noise of leafy branches moved by the breeze, the occasional buzzing of some insects that passed passing close to his ears and the rhythmic progress of their steps. Ah, it seemed that an eternity had passed, and instead…   
Felix was walking a little behind him as if to respect the moment in which he immersed himself in nature again after such a long time spent being someone's slave. He didn't like seeing his far, though, since they had gone there to walk together, so he stopped as soon as he noticed, giving him an encouraging smile … that came out overflowing with gratitude instead.   
The companion seemed to understand by himself, judging from the way he exchanged the gesture, even taking the liberty of stretching out a hand to grab his, holding it as they walked.   
None of them said anything for a while, but the intertwining of their fingers made the elf's heart tremble in a way he didn't think possible anymore.   
«It's actually part of the private property of a Magister, but he's very old and he decided to open it to the public. Basically, no one knows, or cares, since life is in the cities. Very few people, here in the Imperium, would want to spend a day through weeds and insects.»   
He had the chance to see it as well and he still had a hard time comprehending how it was possible. After all…   
«Being a Dalish, it's absurd to me. We live in and with nature, always. I have no idea how someone could get separated from it.»   
«Always always? I read something about your people, but the book was rather biased. Many pages were dedicated to your unrestrained orgies.»   
The younger one winced visibly, rage only mitigated by the caress of the man's thumb against the back of his hand.   
«Foolish humans. There's nothing that they do that isn't false.» - he spat, poisonous voice, right before he caught the pained flick in the companion's eyes … and felt mortified - «…Forgive me. I wasn't literal about it.»   
«No, I can understand. We haven't treated you well, nor do we behave respectfully towards the other races.»   
«You do. Even your parents, and Dorian!» - he emphasized, raising his voice a little. He didn't want to look ungrateful, not after they had done anything to help him and to save his life - «…Yes, always. We don't have real houses, but we often set up tents or use the aravels, occasionally.»   
Returning to the previous topic seemed to relax both of them, especially seeing how the expression of the black-haired's face loosened up as they started exchanging questions and answers while walking through the vegetation.   
Alexius' curiosity was astonishing. He didn't pose stupid queries, but he always had some new. How they spent time, how they hunted, how they interacted with animals and a whole lot of other things. He was considerate in his doubts and at the same time he couldn't conceal his thirst for knowledge, not looking disgusted by the description of a lifestyle which was almost poles apart with the one he always had to deal with. He was grateful to him for the way he was approaching his culture, so different from the countless people who had ill-treated him, more or less mockingly, only in virtue of his race.   
Finally, as it was natural, he asked him about his family. Felix, however, seemed to regret that immediately, catching the sudden stiffening of his muscles, the expression so stretched it looked about to rip itself.   
It was not his fault. It was a licit question and he understood how he had pronounced it while lost in thought, following the stream of their talk, but his throat tightened nonetheless. Without even noticing it, Felix had gripped his hand a little harder.   
«…I'm sorry. You can avoid answering.»   
«I'd prefer that, at least … for now.» - he said in barely more than a whisper, his tone much more distraught than what he had expected from himself. The great sorrow that flashed in the lad's eyes made him feel guilty - «…I want to enjoy this place. I want to think about the present, not about what has been.» has been.»   
«Yes, yes of course-!»   
In spite of the sadness still lingering in the air from moments ago, he couldn't be but sweetened by the agitated rush the university student used to speak. He was probably more mortified by his inconvenient question than the elf being sorry for not having satisfied his curiosity.   
He decided to let it go. That burden on his chest, that pain that threatened to re-emerge. He turned it off, he silenced it, throwing it away while an idea made its way through his mind.   
He conveyed a little quantity of energy in the hand the young man was holding. He would have never hurt him, naturally, but to be a little silly for a moment…   
«Ouch! What the-?»   
He laughed, not able to hold back, when he jumped while waving his hand as if he had burnt it, eyes bulging in surprise. Nothing so serious, actually: he only gave him a little shock, sufficient to be felt but not strong enough to cause real pain.   
They looked at each other, while he struggled to contain himself and the man realized all of a sudden what had happened. Then he saw him reducing his eyes to minuscule fissures and before he could defend himself he was grabbed in a hug a bit too vigorous and abrupt to be defined as such, while the young man planted his palm on his nape, freezing it with the little magic he was capable of. He wasn't afraid. There was no terror, not frightened sinking of the heart while he was locked in his arms and he kicked, laughing, trying to break free from his icy touch, responding to the same little shocks as before. He wasn't scared, not even when the lad's skin returned as warm as always, when they both stopped laughing and neither of them manifested the desire to move away.   
It would have been stupid for everyone else, but for him … it was so splendid and surreal to be able to hug a person without apprehension after so long. It didn't happen since he lived in the clan, since … before. And it was even more incredible how he found himself nuzzling his head against the hollow of his neck, the beating of his vein against the bridge of the nose.   
He felt good. He liked him. So much.   
He smelled like something completely different from what came to his mind naturally if he thought about a hug as sweet. Felix' scent was that of old parchment, of sun and cookies he liked so much, the ones that "magically" disappeared from the kitchens. It didn't remind him of the forest, or the Free Marches, or his people in the slightest, but for some reason unknown to him he smelled like something he had forgotten, something he had missed for long … he smelt like home.   
The young man didn't move. He seemed just as surprised as he was, even if more eloquently seeing his incredible stillness, but he came to realize how they were placed after a handful of seconds and acted consequently, leaning the head on his own.   
Could they stay like that? Far from evil, far from everything … holding each other and safe?   
«No, we can't.» - said the older one and the elf realised he had spoken aloud when it was too late. Damn, now he'd probably think… - «But I'd like to. Very much. We can come back here if you like. I have some more days to spend at home.»   
It was true, he still had some holidays, he wouldn't have gone back to Orlais before two other weeks. And that meant that … oh, he would have loved to. He said that, moving away just enough to look at him straight in the face.   
Like that, surrounded by lush, the light filtering through the canopy was drawing interesting flecks on the young man's face, many small, golden dots on his amber skin that made the black of his hair a little warmer, the same chocolate brown that was to be seen in his eyes. No, not only that. There were some hazel flakes, mottled brick red that merged with the black of the external iris.   
They were beautiful. Dark, profound as pits, so different from Dorian's even though they both had dark hair and had about the same skin tone. He didn't know why, but he found himself staring. Supporting his gaze in spite of the embarrassment that made him lower his ears and heating his cheeks. Perhaps they were too close, he realized all of a sudden. It would have been better if…   
«You have beautiful eyes, Hel'shrael.»   
That comment caught him off-guard. It was the same many had addressed him, both with good and bad intentions, and still, he appreciated that, knowing there was no malice behind such a sincere tone of voice. «Thank you. You're not the one that tells me a similar thing.»   
«Ah, I didn't mean to…-!» - he interrupted him with a little, reassuring laugh, eyes shut that kept him from enjoying the softening of his expression. A thought flashed in his mind. Rapid, a movement so simple and natural, a gesture that was calling after years spent dreading it with nausea and sickness lying in wait … but the blowing of the wind suddenly grew colder, a whistle ruffled his white hair that was growing longer. The idea that he had to cut them, to avoid looking like the boy they had kidnapped and used mercilessly distracted him definitively from their touch, making him realize that they had come there to walk. Not to … whatever they were doing.   
He backed away before feeling sorry, muttering a brief excuse while he went back to walking. The only thing he didn't give up was holding his hand, though he kept his eyes stubbornly low for the whole way they spent in silence.  
He was mortified by how cold the situation had turned, how Felix’ grip had gone nervous in his and even fearful, loose enough so that he could detach immediately if he sensed he was being a burden or a nuisance. The truth was that he had no idea what he was feeling or what those gestures between them meant.  
Or maybe he knew, but he was scared. And realizing all of a sudden, just moments before, that he would only have to stand on his tips to lean forward and kiss him, that he would be the one wanting it was … a lot. Too much, perhaps, so uncalled for.  
So they walked for some time, apparently without a destination, without either of the opening their mouth. Without him giving peace to his heart. 

The moment they had to go away was sanctioned when, once they were deep into the woods, a loud thunder vibrated through the air.   
They both turned towards its source, trying to see the sky in between the branches and finding it considerably darker. It didn't take much for the elf to understand that a summer storm was coming, since the air was dense and humid, the atmosphere saturated with tingling, unexpressed electric energy.   
«A downpour. Damn, it seemed far. We should go back, it's not safe here.»   
The shorter man agreed with the companion, finally raising his eyes in his after they had moved away from each other, minutes ago. If a bolt of lightning had struck a tree the fire would propagate quickly and in all honesty, he had just about enough with pain and blaze.   
Right when he was formulating that thought, the first drops started to fall upon them. They were caught off guard. The greenery above sheltered them only for a couple of seconds, sufficient to look at each other. Then the rain began hitting them, stone-cold and rapid, in a myriad of little tears.   
It was foolish and totally uncalled for, but finally after years … he felt alive.   
A little boy once more, face bare and features still soft, amber skin greedy for the ink that would have touched it only months after and purple eyes closed in the hilarity of a laugh, of a freedom that was still his. And that now belonged to him once more.   
Out of the blue, he laughed. Softly, at first, then louder and louder, he laughed and cried in a completely personal catharsis that would have sounded unmotivated to any listener. He laughed knowing that the smell of wet earth and cold breeze and leaves drenched in rain was his and his only, just like the boots sank in thirsty soil, the shirt that glued more and more against his chest and the face that was cupped by hands so kind and smooth from one of the only people in front of whom he could concede himself to be weak and vulnerable in such a way.  
And yet when he opened his eyes and focused his sight, between rain and tears, Felix was not annoyed by the pathetic scene, nor was he confused or fearful. He was smiling, as sweet as the nectar of the Crystal Graces, with water beading his shaven hair and raven beard in small gems.   
He was there. Warm, safe, strong and yet so gentle. It was not the possessive touch animated by lust, not the irked snap dictated by bother in front of his whining. It was the caress he had missed too much, the support and closeness for which his heart and his soul ached, even if pushing them away had become the easiest and most obvious thing to do.   
Would it be so wrong if he permitted himself to follow that sensation? If he had decided to cast all the violence and all pain aside to allow himself a bit of happiness, even just for a moment?   
He asked himself that while he felt his thumbs running along his skin, describing the bony structure of his cheekbones that were starting to flesh out once more, slowly, thanks to regular meals and treats stolen by a certain someone. And he wondered again when Felix raised his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes, stroking every single one of the little purple circles that encircled his lower lids and whispered to him that it was all right. That he could be happy.   
«I'm here. You are here. You are free.»  
Understood even without words. He hadn't needed to open his mouth for that man to comprehend. He looked up to him and for a brief second, he saw nothing else. Only rain, drops trailing down his skin and that brown so dark it seemed black. Silence. Freedom. Family.   
He didn't feel himself acting, nor thinking. He only leaned forward like it was the most natural thing in the world, cutting in half a phrase that would never be voiced. He pressed his lips against the lad's and he felt everything, every single jolt of their souls, the fraction of surprise that immobilized the young man before he relaxed and returned the kiss, as sweetly as he possibly could, with his mouth so soft and warm under the icy film of rainwater. He felt the tremor of the hands holding his face, just like the one of his own when they rested against his chest, against the drenched fabric of the house attire, the beating of his heart perfectly audible under his fingertips, so alive and real.   
He never thought he'd see it happening. To be able to kiss, one day, a person he cared about and to be loved back, without being pushed away for a misunderstanding or without being disgusted by a contact so unwelcome and repulsive, coming from someone against his will. He had lost all hope to be able to lose himself like that in someone else’s arms, to forget all that was around them and their intentions of getting to safety, ravished only by the slow and shy rhythm of the small kisses they were exchanging, barely longer than a breath.  
Yet he was there. There were only him and Felix and the rain bathing them and the smell of wood. He would have forever treasured in his heart that unexpected memory, so sweet and special.  
They baked away only when another thunder shook the air, both uncertain about how much time had passed. There was even a moment in which they looked into each other’s eyes, confused as if they had just woken up from a trance and were to define how much of what had happened was real.  
But it took very little, the time to smile and realize it was all true and tangible.  
Before another roar slashed the sky they had already started running towards the end of the bush, to hop on the horse and bring all three to a dry place, far from the impending cold.

When they reached home, Felix hissed a curse in Teven when he almost cracked his head against the marble of the entrance, slipping with his drenched boots on the puddle they had created with their own soaked bodies.  
«What idiot would put marble on an entrance? It needs a raw stone, not this slippery junk. I don’t care if it’s stunning if it’s the only thing I’ll see before opening my skull in half.» - he heard him grunting while he held his hand so that he didn’t do the same. It was a bit unsuccessful, since they both slid forward and slithered for a fraction of time before the elf froze both of their heels in place, pinning them down. At least they were still in one piece.   
They freed themselves of their shoes shortly after, wiping their feet with one of Felix' coats hanging near the entrance. It had to be washed regardless, the man had said with a shrug and a little shiver.   
After that they rushed to his room, to avoid dirtying or wetting other rooms. They had servants, but it was a matter of kindness to help them and no to complicate their work for a mere caprice.   
They lighted the fire together, though the merit was more of the black-haired than his. Manipulating such energy didn't come naturally at all to Hel'shrael, and doing so required him a concentration and an effort not indifferent, none of which was particularly disposable seen the ride back home, spent laughing as two fools while they tried to warm each other, Felix' hands on his torso attempting to convey the little magic he was capable of to heat-up his skin in spite of the wind lashing their faces.  
Only when the crackling of the fire became well set they allowed themselves to catch their breath, silently declaring their field trip over.  
The black-haired paused only for a couple of seconds before moving again with certain haste, delving into the bathroom in search of clothes they could use to wrap themselves up. When he returned he already had one on the head, the shirt gone and his free hand fumbling with the belt of his trousers, while the other held out a thick and soft towel.  
They seemed to both register too late that they had to undress in front of the other. And though the tension, not exactly positive, grabbed for a brief moment the younger one by the throat, the academic reacted more quickly, with intellectual promptness.   
«Ah, forgive me, I wasn't paying attention. I'll turn and I'll go fetch you some clothes.»   
He smiled, incapable of holding it in, thankful for his comprehension and thoughtfulness. And he told him that, observing for one last instant his smile before they both turned their backs, fleeing from their soaked outfits to wrap themselves in the comfy warmth of dry cloths.   
Right when he was finishing knotting the towel he saw Felix laying on the bed behind them a little pile of clothes in his direction. His and clean, he explained with tranquillity, while he had already worn his underwear and trousers and was now wiping his chest, in correspondence of the light black fluff that ran along his sternum, expanding slightly across his pecs.   
He thanked him, though preferring to warm up a bit more and dry his skin well before wearing them. Because of that, he sat down in front of the fire, legs curled up against the body and an agitated heart pounding in the chest, uncertain about what to do, what to say. Had it really happened, or had he imagined the kiss they shared? And how would he…   
He was interrupted by the lad that mimicked him, giving him a little and relaxed smile, though a nuance of nervousness seemed to lie underneath. He appreciated how Felix respected him, keeping a certain distance seeing his nudity and knowing how much he detested physical contact when he was too exposed. To tell the truth, he would have liked to move closer to him. And though kinda fearful he did that, leaving a few inches between them but being near enough to feel the warmth of his body.   
It was thrilling, scary and splendid at the same time. He hadn't felt anything like that for a long time now.   
«...Can I ask you something, Hel'shrael?» - the academic suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had submerged them, eyes that ran from the fire they both had stared at to his face. He sustained them, nodding slightly to show him he was listening, that he could go on - «...Can I see the tattoo you have on your back?»  
They both fell silent, while his mind took a few moments to process his request. A part of him, instinctive, told him to jump on his feet and run, raise a wall of ice between them and stop him from following him while he escaped and barricaded himself in his own room, possibly safe and far from anybody and anything.   
But he knew that was not the case. The sole fact that he was asking was proof, and in any case, the young man had already shown him in many ways that he had nothing to fear. Only then, ignoring his own fear, he lowered to the hips the towel that was covering him, hands gripping involuntarily the fabric.   
He was trembling. He realized it when he felt his breath coming out tremulous, and he felt rage against the past for having ruined him in such a way. It was Felix' caress, not on his back but on one hand, to bring him back to reality, anchoring him to the present with kindness. One in which he was happy. In which he was safe.   
«It is really beautiful. Masterfully executed, also. One day I'd like to touch it if you'll agree.» More subconsciously than not, the elf relaxed his muscles. And he even turned, looking at him while smiling full of gratitude. Because he was, infinitely, for his patience and goodness and for the way he tucked the towel back on his shoulders, gifting him with a little stroke on the nape before going back to his place, happy like that, with what little he could offer him.  
Yes, he would have let him. Not that day, but another. He would have closed his eyes, laid on the bed, and he would have let him trace the coloured lines with his fingers, perhaps even laughing when he’d press the points that tickled him once. He wondered if it was still like that, or if he’d feel only discomfort and fear.  
But there was no haste. He didn’t want to think about that now, he wanted to stay with him and enjoy their moment, that warmth and the fireplace.  
He stopped him, unexpectedly, when he showed sign of wanting to get up. He grabbed him by the wrist, skin and silk almost impossible to distinguish underneath the fingertips, whispering him to stay there with him. To hold him, even, if he wanted to.  
And Felix said nothing. He only sweetened his glance while he seated once more next to him, shoulder against shoulder, and encircled his waist with an arm. He only mocked him playfully on how he looked like a ball, so curled up and with his hair all ruffled. The elf big mouthed him, obtaining a laugh and a small chuckle from himself.  
That last one disappeared moments later, under the ephemeral and unanticipated flutter of a stolen brush of lips, uncertain and questioning- It was as if he was asking “can I do it again, just like before?». And he could. Dear Gods, yes, he could … kiss him until the dawn would come, until the end of time.  
He told him that, without a word, seeking a second kiss while he raised his fingers, still cold for the rain, against his beard.  
Hel’shrael didn’t have many certainties since he had been kidnapped. Only a few were starting to form again, little by little and with much fatigue.   
But if there was one that he would have remembered even in the years to come, sweetest and indelible memory, was that the smile that felt rippling under the lips was the most beautiful caress he had ever received in more than twenty years of life. The most simple and morbid, warm as a hug, just like the happiness that bloomed in his chest, melting his heart in a soft heat he had thought gone forever.   
That day, for the first time, his heart trembled for a reason much different from fear.


End file.
